


Lost One's weeping

by Immamaggot



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sobbing, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 04:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16757752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immamaggot/pseuds/Immamaggot
Summary: Jeremy tearfully slammed through that wooden door collapsing onto the tile, looking down at the motionless corpse.“It’s fine, it’s not like I care now.” Michael’s voice rips through his ears.





	Lost One's weeping

Jeremy tearfully slammed through that wooden door collapsing onto the tile, looking up that the corpse.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I care now.” Michael’s voice rips through his ears.

-

Michael stared at the broken mirror, wet covering mocha skin, glass shards cutting through the flesh of his fingers, Michael ignoring the pain that went with the feeling.

_Feel it cutting into me, the doubting painful knife_  


A single glass shard lays in the palm of his hand, blood seeping out of chocolate stained fingers, Jeremy’s voice ringing through his ears.

“-Loser.”

  
_Feel it deepening the rift, finally hit just right_  


Tears clouding his vision, his forcefully grabbed his glasses, and looked himself in the mirror. In complete distress, he furiously chucked them at the tile.

  
_Couldn’t take the love I had, so weak and burning low_  


He thinks back to just a month ago, when that stupid fucking robot (YEAH FUCK YOU SQUIP) wasn’t invading Jeremy’s brain. They sat close together on that wooden but plastic coated table, telling jokes and shoving food into each other's mouth simultaneously, and constant giggling arose within the both of them.

  
But it grew into a weapon only hurting me, this I know  


_…is nonfiction_

The nostalgia of thinking back to their problems would cut into him, reminding him that the noodle kid that sat along with him had disappeared, and the kid from kindergarten will never return. Yet, he can’t help but wish for it.  
  
So good with numbers, science, math I like  
  
But I’m terrible at English so I despise  
  
This part of me that wants a simple “right or wrong”  
  
And I feel that everything I choose will always be false  


He remembers that, everyday, Jeremy and he had struggled with almost subject in school, (at least Jeremy did because my headcanon is that Michael is actually a smartass) but whenever they needed someone to vent to, someone to help, the other would sit there and be like, “DVUX HDZ- Sure bro, what do you need?”

  
And today  
  
This homework  
  
About me  
  
A blank sheet  
  
Accomplished  
  
Content with  
  
This life I will now live  
  
‘Til I think why are we  
  
just sometimes no always  
  
Saying how we’re sad and  
  
Saying how we’re lonely?  


Everyday, they say things like, ‘Meh today was fine,’ or complain about things that were completely irrelevant, then play video games. Jeremy would complain about how bad loser they are and that one day he wants to be so-called ‘cool.’ Michael, though, was completely content with it just being him and Jeremy. Just the both of them. Like player one and player two right?

  
Can you even read the blackboard written clear as can be?  
  
Can you even read his mind? See that kid’s lost fantasy?  
  
Can you even find the one who dyed his red heart to black?  
  
Hey, who could it be?  
  
Hey, someone tell me!  


Days continued to get longer, more painful, and gave more agony. Michael didn’t mind, as long as his player two was always there. Rumors lingered, so it was better to be a lonely stoner instead of a figure that will have their every move recorded

Can you even solve the question with your abacus yet?  
  
Can you even stop the rope from hanging him by his neck?  
  
Did we really choose it right saying we’re okay this way?  
  
Hey, just tell me how  
It’s not like I care now  


Jeremy’s doubt, they stayed the same, Michael was happy with a two player game, Jeremy wanted to be out there, on the top scores of that same game they thought they would be just two losers at, but thing changed, Jeremy kept earning points, but Michael wanted to just stay there, at the bottom, it was easier that way, right?

  
Counting days like numbers, they all pass their prime  
  
And again hypnotically swimming through time  
  
Behind the power and guards I put up  
  
I hide  
  
Knowing they had long died

Tears escape Michael's eyes, fear that the blonde could never go back with him. Time is unrelentless, and the only thing lenient in their world was each other. But now even that’s promise was broken.  
  
From problems  
  
My resolve  
  
Just can’t solve  
  
That homework  
  
Accomplished  
  
Content with  
  
This life I will now live  
  
‘Til I think and he speaks  
  
That demon inside us  
  
Saying “let me just leave”  
  
Saying “someone kill me!”  


The word, the name the both of them always called each other, was always a joke. “Loser” rings forever in Michael’s ears, causing him to remember the use of the word. Before, it was just a teasing name. Now, it was offensive. They were losers together, meaning it was fine that they were losing at life, but at least they had something to keep them going.

  
Can you even read the blackboard written clear as can be?  
  
Can you even read his mind? See that kid’s lost fantasy?  
  
Can you even find the one who dyed his red heart to black?  
  
Hey, who could it be?  
  
Hey, someone tell me!  


Eager voices can be heard from outside the bathroom, small talk and giggles, drunken singing and stampeting was apparently very common in large parties like these. How was Michael going to know? He just stayed at home with Jeremy most of the time.

  
Can you even solve the question with your abacus yet?  
  
Can you even stop the rope from hanging him by his neck?  
  
Did we really choose it right saying we’re okay this way?  
  
Hey just tell me how  
  
Hey just tell me how!  
  
Can you even say the formula of area now?  
  
Can you even scream the dreams you swore would never go out?  
  
Who was the one who let my hopes just curl up die?  
  
Hey, who could it be?  


Whimpers escape his mouth, as memories flood his system, anger, pain, and nostalgia rip through his veins, screaming for a way to relieve the pain. He cuts an incision on his vein that connects to his heart, cutting out circulation, and in a couple minutes he’ll die. His head feels extremely fuzzy, vision blurring out more than it had already since his glasses were shattered on the floor.

  
No, it’s gotta be…  
  
Just open up your eyes, why don’t you grow up and see?  
  
But what the hell is “growing up” and tell me when will I be?  
  
Can a single person out there just explain it to me?  
  
Hey, just tell me how  


Michael sees one last glimpse of Jeremy, but even if that glimpse was a hallucination, Michael Was thankful for it. A small slime lied on his face as memories of their friendship from years back, and how happy both were. How immature Michael had been to think that it would stay that way. How naïve he was to even hope for it. He was stupid.

  
_It’s not like I care now!_

_~~why did I do this~~  
_

**Author's Note:**

> This sucks


End file.
